Miranda
by SelimPensFiction
Summary: After receiving a mysterious message, the 11th Doctor and Clara travel to another universe to learn the truth about Miranda.
1. Chapter 1

_It's best to think of this as a Doctor Who story set in the Firefly universe. There is little interaction between the 11th Doctor and Clara and the crew of Serenity, though they do cross paths from time to time. This story builds on earlier fanfiction, but can be read independently. You'll find a summary of the earlier stories in the note at the bottom._

* * *

The TARDIS control room was empty and, aside from the usual time rotor engine hum, it was silent.

It was silent for a long time. Days. But finally the TARDIS shuddered slightly — in anticipation? — and the silence was broken as the doors creaked open and the Doctor and Clara entered, continuing a brisk conversation that had started upon taking their leave of George Washington.

"And so that's what happens," the Doctor said, "when a distant power tries to enforce their will on an independent-minded people. They squeeze and and they squeeze until the colonists, peaceful though they may be, turn to war."

"I thought George was pretty decent," Clara opined, her face thoughtful. "I quite liked him. Thomas was a bit brusque, though."

The Doctor stared at her. "Decent? A bit brusque? Is that all you have to say about two of the most famous men in Earth's history?"

"Well, in the end they're just blokes, aren't they?"

"Just blokes," the Doctor repeated.

"They both hit on me," said Clara.

The Doctor was stunned. "They never."

"Oh, you're so pretty," said Clara, raising her eyes skyward and clasping her hands to her chest. "I've never met a girl like you. If you accompany me to my home, I'll show you my copy of the Declaration of Independence."

"Right," said the Doctor, clapping his hands together and moving to the console. "On that note it's high time we got you back home."

As he worked, Clara studied him. "Just what is it with you and hats?" she said.

The Doctor was wearing a black hat, triangular shaped, with gold trim along the edges. He took the hat off, bowed with a flourish, then replaced the hat.

"I wear a Tricorn now," he said, tugging on the lapels of his coat. "Tricorn's are cool."

As Clara shook her head, the Doctor pulled the dematerialization switch and the TARDIS slipped into the time vortex.

With the familiar sound of dematerialization, the time rotor rose and fell and the Gallifreyan symbols above the console rotated. Clara stared at them, fascinated. She was about to ask the Doctor a question when the TARDIS began to shake violently, knocking them off of their feet. The cloister bell rang briefly, then all was still and silent.

Clara got back to her feet while the Doctor, still on his back, propped himself up on his elbows and stared, first at his hat, which lay on the floor beside him, and then at the console. The rotor was motionless.

"Doctor, are you alright?"

Getting to his feet, the Doctor nodded but then lurched backwards and said, "Ow."

Clara's eyes widened, but he smiled and set her mind at ease. "I'm fine," he said. "Just received a message, but it delivered a heck of a wallop."

Pulling out the psychic paper from his inside coat pocket, the Doctor flipped open the cover.

"What is it?" Clara asked, coming beside him.

The Doctor, his eyes wide, looked at Clara. After a moment he whispered, "It's a message. From another universe."

"Another universe? How's that possible?"

"It isn't. It shouldn't be."

"Well, what does it say?" Clara asked.

Staring at the message again, the Doctor said, "It's space time coordinates. But they're fuzzy, probably garbled while traversing the boundaries between the universes. And there's a word. Just one word. Miranda."

* * *

The Doctor and Clara looked at each other.

"A message…" Clara began.

"... from another universe!" the Doctor said, his face now full of giddy delight. And with that, he darted to the console and began to dance about, pulling levers, pushing buttons, and entering coordinates.

"You can do that?" asked Clara. "Travel to another universe?"

Sparks flew from the console, showering them both, and the Doctor grinned widely. "With great difficulty," he said, over the noise of the TARDIS. There were clangs, crashes, and great shudders as the Doctor continued to work, and then… nothing.

"What's happened?" Clara asked.

The Doctor, a look of disappointment on his face, said, "She doesn't want to do it, and I can't quite coax her."

"Hmmm," said Clara. Then she walked up to the console and gave it a good kick.

"Silly old cow," she said, as the Doctor gaped at her. "I knew you couldn't do it, you sad excuse for a TARDIS."

There was a great shudder, causing Clara and the Doctor to grab hold of the railing for support, and then the time rotor began to rise and fall as the cloister bell rang and the TARDIS shook like a circus ride.

The Doctor blinked. "You — You insulted my TARDIS. You _kicked_ her."

"Just gave her a little nudge is all," Clara said.

Moving carefully to the console as the TARDIS shuddered and groaned, the Doctor patted the instruments and said, "There, there, old girl, she didn't mean it."

A few moments later there was one last shudder and it was over. The Doctor and Clara looked at each other.

"Well, Clara Oswald," said the Doctor, "are you ready to see another universe?"

In way of answer, Clara cocked her head slightly then walked to the door and opened it.

The TARDIS had materialized on a hillside near a wind turbine farm. In the valley below there was a town with roads radiating outward from a central multi-story building. Other buildings were mostly single story, flat-roofed affairs. Orchards ringed the town while farmland stretched further into the valley. They could make out people milling about, particularly in the centre of town.

Using his sonic screwdriver, the Doctor scanned the area.

"These are humans," he said, "but we're not on Earth. The gravity's isn't right. An outpost somewhere, then."

"Earth?" Clara said. "You mean there's an Earth in this universe?"

"Most likely. This universe may be quite similar to ours, but different choices will have sent them in different directions."

The Doctor flipped the sonic in the air, caught it, then placed it back in his coat pocket. "Let's see what we can find out, shall we?"

On their way, Clara said, "They're able to colonize another world but they still have wind farms and overhead power lines."

"Good for you, Clara. Also note the hodge-podge of building materials and styles. It's possible that these people were transported here, then left to their own devices."

"Maybe that was by choice," Clara said. "Some people prefer to live as their ancestors did."

The streets were simply packed-down earth, and dust was everywhere. And so, remarked Clara as she wiped her nose, was the smell of unwashed bodies.

"Now, now, Clara. Don't be unkind. Water could be a scarce resource on this planet."

Clara and the Doctor wandered about, noting that people were dressed simply, in a variety of styles, and seemed healthy and fairly happy. It must have been market day, unless stalls and vendors were the norm here, with table after table of crafts, utensils, and clothing. A cacophony of sounds assailed their ears as vendors hawked and bargained with customers.

Once in a while, a group of children would dart out, laughing and chasing one another. After one such group sped past them, nearly bowling the Doctor over, Clara felt something hit the back of her head. As she rubbed her head, Clara saw a rubber ball come to rest nearby. She picked it up and looked behind her at the gang of children, some of whom wore expressions of fear, while others laughed and pointed at her.

"Oi! You lot!" She said. "Which one of you rascals threw this?"

"He did!" They all said, pointing fingers at each other.

"I see," she said. "It's like that then, is it? How about a taste of your own medicine then?"

With that, Clara drew back as if to throw the ball right at them. The youths started to back away. "She wouldn't," said one. "She might," said another. "Just look at her, she's going to do it," said a third.

Clara suddenly threw the ball upwards so that it sailed far above the rooftops then arced back down, landing right in the thick of them. The boys cranes their necks, shielding their eyes from the sun, then one of them caught the ball and brandished it, whooping for joy. Clara smiled and turned to look for the Doctor. While she had been occupied with the boys, the Doctor had wandered ahead and was speaking to a vendor. "Oh no," she said, and dashed forward. Too late. The Doctor was trying on something that bore a striking resemblance to a fez.

"Doctor," said Clara, a note of warning in her voice.

Turning to her with a wide grin, the Doctor said, "Perfect, don't you think?"

"Perfect," Clara repeated. "Such a shame you haven't any money with you."

His grin faltered for a moment, then a look of triumph lit the Doctor's face and he pulled a yoyo from one of his coat pockets.

The vendor was an older man with thin white hair, round rimless glasses, and dressed in a well worn khaki shirt and trousers. Regarding his customer with curiosity, his eyes widened as the Doctor demonstrated the yoyo.

"I haven't seen one of those since I was a boy," the man whispered with wonder in his voice.

"A fair trade for the fez?" The Doctor said.

"More than fair," said the man as he reached for the yoyo, then caressed it like a favourite child.

Rolling her eyes, Clara strolled past the Doctor until she spotted a book vendor. There she stopped and began to peruse the wares.

"Anythin' I can help you find, dear?" said the elderly woman seated on the other side of the table.

The Doctor joined Clara and said, "Some history perhaps. Always enlightening, history." The Doctor flashed his best grin, but the woman's smile turned slowly to a frown.

"Depends, don't it?" the woman said. "This here's a history book," she said, picking out a book with a red-leather cover and handing it to Clara. "For all the good it'll do you. It's approved by the Alliance, as are all history books, else they ain't published in the first place."

Clara and the Doctor shared a glance. The woman had practically spat out the word, "Alliance".

Clara passed the book to the Doctor and they made brief eye contact. As he perused its pages the Doctor said carefully, "They do like to keep a lid on things, don't they?"

"Ha!" the woman spit out. "Nothin' they like better than tellin' God fearin' people what to think, even way out here. Can't just mind their own business and let us mind ours. Fought a whole war, didn't we, though much good it did in the end. All those people dyin' and for what?"

"What indeed," Clara said. "Bet it seems like yesterday that the war ended."

"''Deed it does, though it were years ago now. Lost a husband and son. Most folk here on Lilac lost someone. What about you?" she asked.

"I lost everyone," the Doctor said.

"Sorry to hear it," the woman said, shaking her head. "Were you a soldier yourself? You seem a might young."

"I'm older than I look," said the Doctor, smiling wryly. "And in the war… well, I did what was necessary. It does seem at times that it wasn't enough."

Nodding, the woman said, "Listen, you keep that book if you like. You'll see, the history it tells ain't nothin' like what we folk remember."

"Very much obliged," said the Doctor, nodding to the woman. "Just one last question. Does the name 'Miranda' mean anything to you?"

Shaking her head, the woman said, "'Fraid not. Don't know any Mirandas 'round these parts."

After taking their leave, the Doctor read as he walked, ignoring the helter-skelter of people on the street. Then he closed the book and said to Clara, "There _is_ an Earth in this universe, but it's been abandoned. Humanity since established itself in this solar system. The government is located in the central core. There was a war when the outer planets declared independence."

"That doesn't sound familiar," Clara said.

"Those who ignore history…" The Doctor began. "Hmm. I wonder."

"Do they know their own history?" Clara pondered.

"I'm not sure. In here, they refer to Earth as 'Earth That Was'. Perhaps they lost their history after whatever event prompted their migration here."

Clara's attention was caught by a sound further along the road and she tapped the Doctor's shoulder. A flying vehicle, coming from the other direction, came to rest at a building up the street from them. Four people disembarked and then entered the building.

"Perhaps they're with this Alliance," the Doctor said. "What say we wander in that direction and see what they're up to?"

Upon reaching the vehicle, they examined it with interest.

"It's certainly well used, don't you think?" Clara said. "All dusty and scratched."

"And constructed from a hodgepodge of parts, like these buildings. Likely not an Alliance vehicle after all."

With unspoken agreement, they started for the doors of the building, but stopped short upon hearing gunfire from within. Then there was another sound, and they looked up. Two ships were descending rapidly. On the street, people stopped and stared and pointed. In short order, the ships came to rest, hovering over the rooftops.

If the town's buildings and the flying vehicle had seemed like a hodgepodge of parts and materials, these ships took the cake, covered as they were with odd protuberances and haphazard splashes of colour.

"Well, they win the prize," Clara said. "These are definitely the ugliest ships I've ever seen."

The Doctor started backing away. "I've a feeling we may have more to worry about than their appearance."

Moments later, rappel lines dropped from the ships and people descended to the ground. Clara just had time to think that there was something odd about their appearance before all hell broke loose.

"Reavers!" several people called out. This was immediately followed by screams and a mad scramble to get off the streets.

Clara and the Doctor backed away, round the corner of the building and hopefully out of sight.

"Are they… human?" Clara asked.

The Doctor didn't answer, riveted as he was to the commotion.

Clara clapped a hand to her mouth. The Reavers were slaughtering the locals. Wait, not only slaughtering…

"Doctor, they're… they're _eating_ these people! Oh, I think I'm going to be ill. We have to do something. Doctor?"

His face pale, the Doctor said, "There's nothing we _can_ do, Clara. We'd be killed like the rest."

Just then, the four who had arrived on the flying vehicle dashed outside with bags and a case, making a hasty exit. A woman boarded first, then a younger woman, helped by a man in a long, brown coat. One man sat up on the vehicle's railing with a rifle at the ready, scanning for threats.

"That girl," the Doctor said.

"What?" asked Clara. "What about her?"

For a moment, the girl turned her head, making eye contact with the Doctor, an expression of interest on her face. Then the vehicle set off, and a young man dashed from the building towards it. "Take me with you!" he screamed as he tried to clamber aboard.

The man in the coat hesitated, then pushed the man off. "Get back in the vault with the others!" he called out. But the man didn't make it back inside. Three Reavers had grabbed him and were dragging him away. Brown coat took aim with a pistol and shot him, then the vehicle sped off. The Reavers dropped the dead man, seemingly in disappointment.

"Oh my God," Clara said. "They only eat their victims if they're still alive. Oh, I think I'd rather face the Daleks than this."

"We need to take cover," the Doctor said, grabbing Clara by the arm. "We've been spotted."

Glancing behind her, Clara saw a group of Reavers rushing towards them.

"In here," the Doctor said, as they pushed through the doors. "One of them mentioned a vault."

It was dark inside, stark, with a stonework floor, some floor to ceiling pipes, shelving units with jars and carvings, and a raised area at the back with a counter and units of wooden drawers.

"There's no vault here, Doctor," said Clara.

Scanning the room with his sonic screwdriver, the Doctor let out a "Hah!", then opened a compartment and pulled a hidden lever.

"It's jammed," said the Doctor. "Or locked from the inside."

Again he used the sonic, and a hole in the floor opened, revealing stairs leading below. Just then, the outside doors burst opened and a half-dozen Reavers entered, snarling and snapping their teeth.

Ushering Clara down the stairs first, the Doctor followed, then used his sonic to lock the vault from within. After wiping his brow, he descended the last few steps.

They stopped abruptly at the bottom of the stairs. A young soldier was positioned directly in front of them, his eyes blinking rapidly and his face dripping with perspiration. He was barely able to steady the rifle pointed in the Doctor's direction. There were perhaps a dozen people behind the soldier, mostly men, but a couple of woman and a little girl, perhaps five years old. A few were moaning and crying and clutching each other. One man was sprawled unconscious on the floor.

After observing all this, the Doctor raised his hands and said, as gently as possible, "We're not here to hurt anyone. We're just taking cover from… what's out there."

"We're not one of them," Clara said, to reinforce the Doctor. "We're just like you."

"Well," said the Doctor, turning to Clara, "not _just_ like them."

"Shut up Doctor," said Clara.

The soldier looked at them closely, then breathed a deep sigh and went to sit on the floor. He trembled, hugging himself.

"What are they?" Clara said. "Out there."

"Reavers," someone spat out.

"They're human," the Doctor said.

"They're _not_ human," one of the women said. "They may have been once, but those… _things_ are not human."

The other woman was seated on the floor, knees pressed against her chest, rocking back and forth and trembling, her eyes wide and sightless. The girl, apparently the woman's daughter, was stroking her mother's hair and patting her shoulder, despite her own tears and shudders.

The Doctor approached the girl and knelt down. She wore a plain dress decorated with butterflies, socks that had once been white but were now the colour of sand, and scuffed shoes with open toes. Her dark brown hair was thick and curly with ringlets falling to her shoulders. The dirt on her face was smeared with tears.

"You are a brave girl," the Doctor said with a smile. "You're perhaps the bravest girl I've ever seen."

After swallowing a couple times, the girl said with a small voice, "I'm not brave. I'm scared."

"Being brave doesn't mean you can't be scared," said the Doctor. "It means thinking of others even though you're scared. And here you are, scared, but trying to help your mother just the same."

The girl's deep brown eyes made contact with the Doctor, but she said nothing.

"Tell you what," said the Doctor. "Such a brave girl deserves a reward. Now this hat," he said, removing his fez, "is a very special hat. I want you to have it to remind yourself that if you ever feel scared again, you are in fact a very brave girl."

He placed the fez in the girl's hands. She put it on her head, wiped her nose with her sleeve, and smiled.

"Thank you," she said, and hugged the Doctor's neck. Then she turned back to her mother, patted her on the shoulder, and said, "Don't be scared, Mom. I'm here."

Getting to his feet, the Doctor rejoined Clara. She looked at him appraisingly then said, "I knew there was a reason I loved you," and gave the Doctor a big hug.

It was over an hour later that they received the all clear and opened the vault door. On the street, people shuffled about, their faces white with shock. Sometimes they bumped into one another, then shuffled off, wordlessly, in another direction. The only sound was that of weeping. Bodies, and parts thereof, were strewn helter skelter.

"Is this why we were called here?" Clara asked. "To stop these Reavers?"

"I don't know," the Doctor said. "But I promise you, whatever the reason for that message, we _will_ get to the bottom of it. And I would be very surprised if it didn't have something to do with what's happened here."

With that, the Doctor took out his psychic paper. "The spacetime coordinates are clearer. Perhaps because we've been in this universe for a while. I know where we have to go."

Retracing their steps, Clara and the Doctor walked back through the eerily quiet streets that so recently had teamed with life.

"These poor, poor people," said Clara. "We were just rubbing shoulders with them… oh no."

Clara stopped beside a severed arm. There was no sign of the body to which it belonged. The skin was pale, with age spots and tufts of coarse grey hair. The hand was wrinkled, the nails long and dirty, and the fingers still clutched a yoyo.

They continued along the street in silence, until the Doctor's eyes widened and he tried to avert Clara's gaze. But her curiosity overcame her. She looked, then dropped to her knees and stroked the hair of two boys, not more than twelve years old, their faces and clothing soaked in blood. Their throats had been slit haphazardly with a jagged blade. Near the boys lay a blood-soaked rubber ball.

Clara wiped a tear, then her eyes narrowed, her lips pursed, and she stood. "Let's go Doctor. Whoever is behind this is going to be very very sorry we were called to this universe."

* * *

 _Previously..._

 _In "Goodbye", Mal and company learn that the Alliance has been experimenting with time travel. Determined to put a stop to further Alliance meddling, they destroy the equipment and kill the inventor. Despite their intercession the work continues, and over the course of the next 50 years time travel technology is perfected. However, there is dissension in the ranks of the future Alliance. After a clone of Mal is inserted into the 20th Century, a rogue operative travels back in time to kill Alexis Castle, the daughter of Mal's clone. In "A Firefly in the Castle", Mal is recruited by the future Alliance to intercept the operative and save the life of his niece. A few years pass, then, in "Castle Serenity", Richard Castle and Kate Beckett are brought into their future to help Mal and his crew prevent an atrocity planned by former Browncoats. While disguised as Mal on Beaumonde, Richard Castle has a brief encounter with a tall, gawky man dressed in a long frock coat and bow tie._


	2. Chapter 2

"It's awfully quiet," said Clara after stepping out from the TARDIS. But the lack of sound hadn't been her first impression. It was blindingly bright. She'd immediately had to shield her eyes, and while they adjusted, she'd heard not a sound, nor seen any hint of activity.

It was quite a change from Lilac. Not that Lilac hadn't been bright, but on this world the sunlight was reflected from the ground, covered in white concrete squares, the neighbouring walls, cast from white concrete and metal, and the large, reflecting windows. The buildings were… different, more advanced, more unified in style as they jutted skyward, sometimes straight up, sometimes at odd angles, always bounded by tapered sharp corners.

"Well, this world is clearly much more advanced," said Clara.

"Interesting," said the Doctor, "because we're still in the outer rim, not far from Lilac and only days in the future."

As they walked slowly up the deserted street, listening for signs of life and peering in windows, the Doctor continued. "This planet wasn't listed in that history book."

"Perhaps it was settled after the book was published," offered Clara.

"Or perhaps it was meant to be a secret," said the Doctor.

"How do you keep a planet secret?"

"How indeed?" the Doctor said.

After turning a corner, Clara screamed. A skeletal body, covered in tattered clothing, lay on the ground just feet away from her.

The Doctor knelt beside the body, looked it up and down, then scanned it with his sonic screwdriver.

"What killed him?" asked Clara.

Standing, the Doctor said, "I'm not sure. It's almost as if he just lay down and... died."

Continuing on, they came to a building with a large, ground floor window. It was an office of some sort, with the typical workstations, supplies, and meeting rooms, with one exception. All the workers were dead. There was no sign of violence.

Shaking her head, Clara said, "It's as if they came into work, sat down, and decided to die."

Still further up the street, Clara noticed the outline of a figure inside a parked vehicle. Stepping up to the side window, she simply nodded. The driver was long dead, just like the others.

For an hour they walked the streets, noting the dead in places of work, alone on the street, or in social gathering places. And in all that time, they encountered not a single living soul. The last straw for Clara was when they came across a children's playground with tiny figures laid out on the teeter totters, slides and swings.

She stopped and said, "Everyone is dead. Every last one of them. But then, who sent you the message?"

"We're actually a bit early. I wanted to see what we were dealing with first."

"So much death," said Clara. "We've been in this universe such a short time and seen so much death."

"We need go back to the TARDIS," said the Doctor as he scanned the children's bodies with his sonic. "We're going to find out what happened."

* * *

The TARDIS materialized in the same location, twelve years in the past. Instead of the blinding light and dead silence that greeted them previously, it was coming on dusk and the streets were awash with throngs of living, moving people. The Doctor and Clara joined the crowd and were quickly caught up in the surge of humanity.

The street was jampacked with people jostling and literally rubbing shoulders, but everyone was smiling and some were drinking and sharing drinks from unlabeled containers.

"So where are we going?" Clara asked no one in particular.

A woman to Clara's left answered while clinging to her husband with one hand and a little boy with the other. "The central square, of course. For the fireworks."

"Ah, yes, the fireworks," said the Doctor, clapping his hands together. "I love fireworks. Fireworks are great. What a great way to celebrate. Um, what are we celebrating again?"

"Are you kidding?" said a man next to the Doctor. "It's the anniversary of the founding of the colony."

"Of course," said the Doctor, as he, Clara and the entire crowd were swept forward. "This planet has come a long way, hasn't it?"

This prompted a big grin from someone else within earshot and she exclaimed, "Three cheers for the great colony of Miranda! Hip hip hurray!"

Clara and the Doctor shared a glance. "We thought Miranda was a person," Clara said quietly to the Doctor. "It's a planet."

"One without a very bright future," the Doctor said into her ear.

A new man who had moved forward with a tributary in the crowd was now walking next to the Doctor. Noticing him, the Doctor smiled and said, "Isn't it great that here we are in the outer rim, yet we have all this technology."

"We're truly blessed with the benefits of both worlds," the man said. "Out here we're free to do as we please, yet we have all the technology of the core. And the price wasn't all that steep was it?"

"The price." said the Doctor.

"You know. How we're to have no contact with the rest of the system."

"Right," said the Doctor. "Yes, it does seem almost too good to be true, doesn't it?"

The man moved on, then Clara moved closer to the Doctor and whispered, "So these people were promised the core's technology with the freedom of living in the outer rim. All in exchange for keeping silent. Why, do you suppose?"

"I'm not sure, but I've a feeling we aren't going to like the answer."

A few more minutes brought them to a large square packed with people. Though dusk had by now given way to night, the square was lit nearly as well as if it were noon. In addition to large flood lights, multi-coloured spotlights zoomed about the crowd, with people cheering when a light paused on them. There was music, rousing orchestral music followed by a thudding, beat-driven electronic score that had people dancing on the spot in whatever little space they had.

On the far side from the Doctor and Clara, a wide stage had been set up with a podium beside which several dignitaries were seated.

One of them, a woman, rose and shook hands with the others before moving to the podium. The music stopped, the lights dimmed, a great spotlight focussed on the speaker, and the crowd cheered. The woman raised her hands and the cheers were replaced with a hushed anticipation.

"Citizens of Miranda," spoke the woman, her amplified voice echoing off the neighbouring buildings. "Welcome to the celebration of the anniversary of this great colony."

This was followed by cheers and applause from the audience.

"My name is Gabrielle Cumeau, Vice Governor and Chief Scientific Advisor."

At this, the Doctor raised an eyebrow and nodded slightly at Clara. Nodding back, Clara gave unspoken agreement. This was someone they needed to speak to.

Continuing, Cumeau said, "It is my task today to introduce to you someone who needs no introduction, who has been our leader from the very founding of this colony to this, our glorious anniversary. Ladies and Gentlemen, I am proud and privileged to introduce to you, Governor Augure."

Stepping to the side of the podium, Cumeau joined everyone else in applauding as the governor got to her feet, moved to shake hands with Cumeau, then stepped up to the podium.

"The progress we have made in a few short years is staggering," Augure began. "Thanks to the hard work and dedication of all of you celebrating tonight. Is this colony a success?" she asked rhetorically. She was answered by a rousing "yes" from the audience. "I can announce today that we are officially the largest collection of humanity outside of Ariel itself, for we have reached a population of 30 million souls."

This was greated by a deafening cacophony of euphoria from the assembled throng. All except for the Doctor and Clara. The Doctor wore an expression of sadness and shook his head slightly. Clara's eyes widened as she felt her knees start to buckle, and she grabbed the Doctor's arm to steady herself. Noting the concern on the Doctor's face, she mouthed, _I'm fine_ and smiled faintly.

"More than a mere success," Augure continued, "this colony represents the best hope of humanity. We will lead the way to a new age of peace and prosperity and happiness."

More cheers, and then the woman raised her hands again. "You're not here for speeches. You're not here for accolades. You're here to celebrate. And so, without further ado, as Governor of Miranda, I declare, let the fireworks commence!"

The spotlight dimmed and the crowd was in darkness. There were murmurs of anticipation until finally the sky was suddenly filled with light and the crowd burst into applause, and Clara's mouth dropped. This was like nothing she'd ever seen. The entire sky had become a screen onto which crystal clear, 3D objects were projected, the colours almost blinding in their intensity. There was sound as well. Not only a musical score, but natural sound. Beginning with abstract objects of many shapes, sizes and colours merging into one another, darting about helter-skelter, these clarified and became a tumultuous waterfall, very close to the camera. It was near deafening, and as the camera pulled back, along the surface of a great lake, Clara could hear the splash of fish jumping clear of the water, and the rush of air as a large white bird swooped down towards the fish, missed, and soared back up into the sky. The camera followed the bird, then leapt ahead and soared through a fertile valley, then up, very close to the surface of a mountain. Clara could see the trees, the rocks, and then the snow, and still the camera climbed until it cleared the peaks, then cleared the very atmosphere. And then there were stars. But from the stars emerged a ship, sleek, long, and gigantic. The ship passed the camera and the camera turned, and Clara could see that it was approaching a world that grew and grew. This was greeted by loud applause. It was this world, no doubt. Miranda. The world filled the sky, then grew bright, brighter than the sun, so bright that the audience had to shield their eyes. Then, as the music came to rousing climax, it was over. The lights in the square returned and the audience applauded. The applause continued for several minutes then gradually died down and the crowd began to disperse.

Clara blinked. She felt very… relaxed. Calm. She stood still, looking ahead, neither speaking nor moving.

"We should get back to the TARDIS," the Doctor said. "We'll have a busy day tomorrow."

"Yes Doctor," said Clara, her voice flat. "A busy day."

After a pause during which he looked at Clara closely, he said, "Are you alright?"

Clara turned towards the Doctor, her expression as flat as her voice. "Yes. I'm alright."

The Doctor took her arm gently and they started to walk…

...And Clara woke up.

She was in bed. Blinking a few times, she rubbed her eyes and sat up. There was the Doctor, sitting on the bed beside her. But his face. There was something wrong. There were equal portions of concern and anger on that face. A dark, terrible, Time Lord anger that she had but seldom seen.

"What's happened?" Clara said.

"What's the last thing you remember?" said the Doctor, the anger ceding to concern and hope.

Clara paused. "Well, there were the fireworks. They were spectacular. And then… nothing. Until just now."

"And how do you feel?"

"Fine, I think. But tell me, what's happened?"

"Thanks to you, we know now what we're dealing with. They've delivered a substance into the atmosphere. Cleverly, they did it during the celebration, when a great many of the population were outdoors. When the fireworks were over, your face and voice were…empty. You agreed with everything I said, proof that something was wrong."

"I don't always disagree."

The Doctor smiled. "You see what I mean?"

Clara cuffed him on the arm gently and the Doctor continued.

"You seemed more affected than most, though I must say the crowd was quite subdued as they left the square. I brought you back here and the TARDIS was able to identify the foreign substance in your bloodstream and neutralize it. It's the same substance, no doubt, that will cause this population to simply stop, give up, and die."

"But what's the point?" Clara pondered. "Or did they want to create a population of sheep? People that would be easy to control." After a pause, her eyes widened and she continued. "Oh my God. These people are lab rats, aren't they? They were brought here just so the Alliance could test the effects of this substance."

"And now we have to go right to the source. If you're feeling up to it, we're going to pay a visit to Chief Scientific Advisor Cumeau and have them deliver an antidote before it's too late."

"Try to stop me," said Clara.


	3. Chapter 3

Ahn Phan watched his coffee get cold. Somewhere in the back of his mind he realized that this should bother him. However, this morning it didn't. He was content to watch the steam rise from the mug as he sat back in his chair.

Part of him, a small part, was surprised that the chair seemed so comfortable. Hadn't he complained about it before? Phan blinked. Perhaps he had, but he couldn't remember. Right now, it was so comfortable that he felt no need to move. No need at all.

Beside his mug was a photo. Who was that again? He thought he should know her. It was on the tip of his tongue. Oh yes. Mary, his wife. He'd just seen her this morning. Hadn't he? He couldn't quite remember. Or perhaps it wasn't so much that he couldn't remember as it just didn't seem very important.

Turning his head slightly, Phan saw that the display in front of him was full of information bytes. His job was to survey that information and bring anything important to the governor's attention. It could keep. Where _was_ the governor?

"Where is the governor?"

That voice. Was it coming from inside his own head? He'd just been pondering that question in an abstract sort of way. The voice could have been internal. But it didn't really matter where she was, did it?

Then Phan felt his chair turn sharply. There was a face very close to his, a man's face that he didn't recognize. But Phan could see that he was upset about something.

"Where," the man said again, "is the governor?"

Blinking, Phan tried to drive off the fog. He backed his chair away from the man a bit. Then it occurred to him that the office was strangely quiet. It was never quiet. Looking left and right, he saw that it was mostly empty. Only a few people had come in, and they were just sitting, not looking at anything in particular.

Phan cleared his throat, then said, "Um, just give me a second. Oh yes. The governor and her council are offworld, on the station. They left after the ceremony last night."

"That figures," said another voice, a woman's voice.

Craning his head to the left, Phan saw the woman standing just behind and to the right of the man.

The man turned to her. "Of course. They left to avoid the effects of the compound."

Turning back to him, the man continued. "This station. It's a space station, is it? In orbit around this world?"

Phan was getting sleepy. This didn't seem very important. But something shook him, jarred him awake again. What was it? Oh yes, the man was still here.

"Um, yes," he whispered and cast his eyes upward. "The Ara Pacis. In orbit. Up there in the black."

There was something in the man's face that caught Pham's attention. At least, for a moment. It seemed like concern. Regret.

But, whatever it was, it wasn't important.

* * *

Chief Scientific Advisor Gabrielle Cumeau sat to the right of the governor at the briefing table. They were in the station's executive meeting room, normally used for little other than hosting Alliance representatives. The fact that the governor chose to host today's meeting here lent considerable weight to its importance. Cumeau looked around her. Natural wood was a luxury on Miranda, but it was in plentiful supply here. The table was a thick, highly polished dark brown slab cut into a long, oblong shape; the floor was a lighter, but equally well polished wood; and the ceiling boasted a crisscross pattern of wooden planks, stained so as to match the table. Light-emitting ceiling tiles in between the planks provided illumination. The walls were the usual pale affairs with built-in display elements that could be activated to display visual media.

The heads of every department were present, including legal, finance, military, operations and diplomacy, and this was probably the biggest day of Cumeau's life. There were cautious smiles but also a lot of tension in the room. Cumeau permitted herself a small smile and nodded at those who made eye contact with her while keeping her expression even; she didn't want to give anything away. Why spoil the fun?

At last the governor stood and the hushed conversations ceased.

"Ladies and gentlemen," began the governor. Cumeau cast her eyes downward for a moment. Did the governor really need to make this sound like a circus act? "As you know, the Pax was released into the air processors yesterday evening. Here to report on the preliminary results is Chief Scientist Cumeau."

Cumeau stood as the governor sat. When the polite applause subsided, she began.

"Thank you governor. This is a historic occasion for humanity. One that will be forever remembered. While the results from introducing Paxilon Hydrochlorate into the atmosphere are indeed preliminary, they are most encouraging. Reports from the surface indicate that no crimes have been committed in the past twelve hours. By way of comparison, 100 crimes, major and minor, were reported in the same twelve hour period one week ago. In addition, a demonstration against the government of Miranda, planned for this morning, has not occurred. No fatalities have been reported, nor any unusual illness. Though these results are very preliminary, I believe it is safe to say that the 'Pax', as we refer to it, is likely to exceed our greatest hopes."

Pausing, Cumeau looked at the audience to gauge their reaction. It didn't take long. After a moment of silence, they burst into loud applause, some of them standing. And this, Cumeau thought with amusement, from a staid collection of bureaucrats. Still, it was most welcome.

Continuing, she said, "Thank you, but as I said, it's still early days. The Pax will be active for 24 hours before it becomes inert. Tomorrow, teams will descend to the surface and began random medical examinations to confirm that there are no undue side effects in the population. And, of course, we will continue to collate evidence of changes in social…"

Just then, before Cumeau could finish her sentence, the meeting room doors burst open and a man and woman stormed in.

The governor opened her mouth to speak but before she could do so, the man spat out, "Are you out of your minds? Do you have _any_ idea what you've done?"

"What is the meaning of this?" the governor sputtered. "Who are you? How _dare_ you interrupt this conference?"

"My credentials," the man said, opening an identification wallet.

There was stunned silence in the room. Good Lord, Cumeau thought. He's an operative of the Parliament.

Finally, the governor said. "Clear the room. All of you. Except you, Advisor Cumeau."

No one moved.

"Now," the governor said.

Recovering from their shock, the department heads got up and shuffled out, looking behind them with questioning looks on their faces.

When the four of them were alone, the governor spoke. "You're an operative of the Parliament."

"An operative of the Parliament," the man said. "Yes. You can call me the Doctor. This is Clara, my associate."

"And how can we help you, Doctor?" said the governor.

The Doctor approached the table across from the governor and leant against it with both arms, bringing his face as close as possible to hers.

"You have a narrow window of opportunity. Just a few hours. You have to introduce an antidote into the atmosphere before it's too late."

"And why would we do that?" Cumeau said. "Early results indicate that the Pax will exceed even our expectations."

"The Pax," said the Doctor. "Is that what you call this poison?" Here he backed away and paced in a circle for a few moments. He looks like he's trying to calm himself down, Cumeau thought. Then she started to become concerned. What did he know? And how did he know it? Was there even the slightest chance he was correct?

"Here's why," the Doctor continued as he approached the table again. "Because if you don't, you'll go down in history as among humanity's greatest mass murderers. Trust me. Thirty million people are going to die. Thirty _million_."

"Nonsense," Cumeau said. "The Pax isn't lethal." Of course it wasn't. None of their preliminary tests had provided any evidence of toxicity. Still, could she possibly have missed something?

"Not directly it isn't, no," said the Doctor. "That doesn't matter. The fact remains that unless they receive an antidote, the entire population will die. Now, as an operative of the Parliament, I order you to stop this madness and save your own people."

The governor considered the Doctor for a moment before she replied. "I'm sorry, Doctor, but in this matter I answer to a higher power than even your own. I don't know where you got your information, but it is incorrect. For the sake of the Alliance and its future, it is imperative that this trial continue. Security!" she called.

The doors opened and four armed men entered. "Kindly escort these two to the holding area if you please. They are not to leave."

"Yes ma'am," one of them replied.

"And please find out how they got on board this station. I was not aware that any shuttles had been allowed to dock."

"Yes ma'am" the guard repeated, and with his firearm poised, he nudged the Doctor and Clara towards the door."

"You must listen to me," the Doctor pleaded as he was escorted out. "You're going to kill the entire population. You must release an antidote. You must!"

And then Cumeau and the governor were alone in the room.

They exchanged a glance.

* * *

The Doctor and his associate were deep in conversation as Cumeau approached the holding area.

"Oh, look Clara," said the Doctor when he spotted Cumeau. "Here comes a mass murderer."

"Hello, mass murderer," Clara said with a pleasant wave. "Enjoy your job? You must find it very satisfying."

Cumeau ignored her and approached the bars. "Why do you think the Pax is lethal?"

"Why would you introduce it in the first place?" said the Doctor.

"Violence, crime, they accompany people wherever we go. Earth-That-Was, here, we're just trying to make things better."

"By turning your people into sheep, is that what you call better?" said Clara.

"It isn't like that. You'll see."

"We've already seen," said the Doctor. Looking around him, he said. "Speaking of seen, we'll see you in a week."

"I'm afraid you're to remain here until the governor says otherwise."

"I don't think so," said the Doctor.

Then Cumeau heard a sound. Faint at first, so faint as to be barely audible. Then it grew louder, and she felt a breeze. It felt like… something was coming.

"I left my TARDIS with a protocol to fetch us if we weren't back within an hour. As I said, Chief Scientist Cumeau, we'll see you in a week."

"Your… what?" said Cumeau.

A tall blue box with a light fixed to the top was forming around the Doctor and Clara. Cumeau stepped back and placed her hand over her mouth. What in the 'verse…?

And then, just as the shape solidified, and the Doctor and Clara were enveloped within, it began to disappear, until the cell was empty.

* * *

Cumeau blinked, her eyes dry and bloodshot from lack of sleep. A cup of steaming coffee was in front of her on the executive meeting room table. Odd that she didn't remember anyone bringing it to her. But then, with the lack of sleep and not having eaten for days, perhaps it wasn't so odd.

Sipping the coffee, Cumeau scanned the data and video displays on the walls. There was no good news. And it just got worse all the time.

Hearing a familiar sound, she put down her cup and looked around her. There it was. That blue box solidifying out of thin air again, the light on top flashing.

Without realizing it, Cumeau had held her breath upon first hearing it. Now she exhaled and felt a bit of relief. Nobody had believed her, about how they had escaped, not until they reviewed the video footage. But soon there were other things to worry about. Now, here it was again, a week later, just as the Doctor had said.

The Doctor and Clara emerged. They didn't say anything. They didn't have to.

"Well, we haven't killed _absolutely_ everyone," Cumeau said with a faint smile. "It's worse than that."

"How can it be worse?" Clara asked.

"Most of the population are dying or dead from dehydration and starvation. They've simply…"

"Stopped," said the Doctor.

"Yes," Cumeau agreed. "But it's becoming clear that the Pax has had a paradoxical effect on a small portion of the population. Approximately 0.1%. They have become animal-like. Extremely violent. And they… "

Cumeau's eyes filled with tears and she swallowed a couple of times before continuing.

"They're mutilating themselves. And they've become cannibals. Eating their victims. They don't seem to bother with those who've already died. They only attack and eat the living…"

And with that, Cumeau buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

The Doctor and Clara looked at each other. "The Reavers," Clara whispered, her eyes wide. "You've created them."

"Reavers. As good a name as any," Cumeau said, looking up again.

Regarding them silently for a moment, Cumeau continued. "The governor has been recalled and much of the station has been abandoned. But we've been able to locate pockets of survivors, people who were underground or in sealed buildings while the Pax was in its active form. I'm going to take the few remaining personnel down to the surface for a rescue mission."

"They're going to want to hush this up," said the Doctor. Odd the change in him from a week ago. There was still anger there, but also sympathy. Perhaps he could see how shattered she was. If she'd only known. She'd even suggested to the governor that they introduce the antidote to buy themselves some time. To no avail.

I'm not sure, she thought, that I would show any sympathy towards myself, not after this.

"They surely will," Cumeau agreed. "The Alliance doesn't make mistakes. Any evidence to the contrary will disappear." Clara flashed her a look. "Yes," Cumeau continued. "Including me. But I'll let the 'verse know. Somehow, I promise I will. But first things first. I have survivors to rescue."

The Doctor nodded and opened the door to the blue box.

"You're not an operative, are you?" said Cumeau.

"Not an operative," agreed the Doctor. "And, as it happens, we're not even from your universe."

Not from our universe, thought Cumeau. Any other time, she would have peppered the Doctor with questions. But, still in shock from having decimated an entire planet, Cumeau said nothing.

Clara said "Good luck," as she followed the Doctor into the box. She sounded like she actually meant it. Then Cumeau heard that sound, as if the box were tearing through something, and it faded away.

* * *

"Okay, last stop," said the shuttle pilot as they touched down.

"Help the security detail," said Cumeau, seated beside him. "I'll stay here and monitor communications. The survivors should be in the building in front of us. Don't dally, will you?"

"No problem," said the pilot, unbuckling himself from the chair. "The sooner we're off of this dead world and into the black, the better."

"Roger that," said Cumeau.

The pilot moved to the back of the shuttle, past the half dozen survivors they'd already picked up, and exited through the rear, accompanied by four security personnel.

After unbuckling herself, Cumeau scanned the comm channels. Nothing. She slammed the console with her fist in frustration. How could there be nothing? How long were they to wait for orders?

Then she sat back and thought about it. Perhaps there would _be_ no orders, no ships coming. Rather than bringing us back to kill us, and thus guarantee our silence, it would be simpler, wouldn't it, to just leave us here.

Laying her head on the console for a moment, Cumeau thought, I'm so tired. So so tired. Couldn't something go right for once? But one problem at a time. Right now they needed to collect these survivors and return to the station.

She sat up, shook her head and blinked. She was about to wave the pilot when she saw him exit the building followed by a group of civilians and then the security team. Wait. There were only three of them.

"Security," she said over the comms. "You're missing someone."

"The chief wanted to check something out. Told us to go ahead and he'd catch up," came the response.

" _Ta ma de_! Chief Doba. We're leaving _now_. Get back on board at once. Acknowledge."

There was no response. " _Gao yang jong duh goo yang_. Thomson and Pham, the chief's not responding. Please go fetch him so we can get off this gorram planet."

"On our way," Pham replied.

Cumeau saw them dart from the shuttle and back into the building. She was practically trembling from exhaustion and a desperate need to get away from all the dead souls calling out, reprimanding her.

After a minute, there was still no sign of them. With another curse, Cumeau began the engine startup sequence and waved the security team. "Thomson, Pham, report!"

"Need me up front, ma'am?" the pilot asked over the comm system.

"Negative," said Cumeau. "I'll manage. Stay with the survivors."

She was about to close the doors and lift off when she noted a couple of figures dart out of the building and into the shuttle. Finally.

"Takeoff in ten," Cumeau said over the comms as she closed the doors. "Buckle up. Pham, Thomson, report. Where's the chief?"

There was no answer, and she couldn't wait any longer. She just couldn't. Up rose the shuttle, giving Cumeau one last look at her home of the past few years. It was over. At last it was over.

With the course laid in, and the shuttle on its way, Cumeau became aware of a commotion in the shuttle's rear. She spoke into comms. "What's the problem back there?" she asked.

No answer. What in the 'verse was going on?

The comm system kicked in for a moment, full of static and… was that screams? Then it was silent.

Stepping away from the controls, she moved to the doorway and looked through the viewing pane. And backed away, hand over her mouth, eyes opened wide in horror. Those things. They were in there. There were several dead already, others trying to squirm away, screaming.

She ran back to the pilot's console and opened a compartment containing firearms. There was one pistol left. She grabbed it and started to move to the doorway. But before she could make it, there was a loud explosion and the lights went out, leaving only sunlight and the dim emergency lights to illuminate the shuttle interior.

Seating herself at the pilot's console again, Cumeau confirmed that everything was out. Someone had managed to shoot out the power systems in their frenzy. Battery power kicked in automatically but that wasn't enough to keep them aloft. Manual controls would allow her to stabilize the shuttle and slow its precipitous descent. Hopefully.

Her hopes were dashed as surely as the shuttle soon would be. They were going down fast and there was little she could do. "Crash positions!" she called out, uselessly, of course, as they descended ever faster towards the city below. The people in the rear were fighting for their lives, and she couldn't help them. Pounding her head with her fists, she cursed herself. Once again, people were going to die because of her. This time, at least, she wouldn't be excluded.

Impact.

Lifting her head from the console, Cumeau was puzzled. Where was she? There were sparks in the dark of the cabin. Oh yes. Oh my God! Getting to her feet, she steadied herself then went to the doorway. There were only a couple of people left besides those… things. And the shuttle was wrecked, that much was obvious. It wasn't going anywhere, and she couldn't leave without having to get past... them. Those Reavers.

It was over.

But, she'd made a promise. She had to let people know.

She jammed the door to the rear then went to the comms station and activated the beacon. On battery power, it would only emit a low-radius signal, but it should last for decades. Taking a moment to compose herself, to calm her breathing and clear her mind, Cumeau activated the holo-recorder and plugged in a data module containing images of the population taken since the introduction of the Pax. Then she began her message.

"These are just a few of the images we recorded. And you can see, it isn't what we thought. There's been no war here and no terraforming event. The environment is stable. It's the Pax. The G-23 Paxilon Hydrochlorate that we added to the air processors. It was supposed to calm the population, weed out aggression. Well, it works…"

* * *

Down on all fours in the darkened, smashed-up shuttle, the taste of vomit still in her mouth, River said, "I'm alright."

Then her eyes opened in wonder and she turned to Simon and repeated, "I'm _alright_."

It was clearing, the fog, the twists and turns in her head, connecting one thought with another and another, each unrelated to the one before. It was as if she'd vomited up poison, a poison named Miranda.

Simon helped her to her feet as the rest of the crew left the shuttle. "I need a minute," River said. "Do you mind?"

With a smile, he replied, "Of course not. I'll be outside with the others. And River, welcome back." Simon kissed her on the cheek and left.

Pacing slowly around the shuttle, her fingers running along the surface of consoles here and there, River stopped short and turned her head.

There was a sound. Something was coming. Two by two, box of blue.

Two people emerged from the blue box, a man and a woman.

"A madman in a box," River said with a smile.

The man was startled. "What made you say that?"

"Who else would travel in a box?" said River.

"She has a point," the woman agreed.

"I remember you," the man said. "We saw you on Lilac. I'm the Doctor, this is Clara."

"River," said River, as she walked towards the two, looked at their faces from just inches away, then backed up again.

"We got your message," the Doctor said. "Miranda. We heard it in another universe."

"Not a message," said River. "A cry, for all the lost souls of this world."

"How did you do that?" Clara asked.

"They like to meddle," said River with a shrug. "They meddled with me." She paused, then added. "But you, you both travel through space, across universes, and you travel in time."

Clara cocked her head. "How do you know that?"

"You were on Lilac. I didn't know about Miranda until later."

"You know what happened here?" the Doctor queried.

River nodded. "She left a message. It was the Pax."

"That must have been Cumeau," said Clara. "Good for her. At least she was able to do that much."

"What are you going to do now?" asked the Doctor.

River looked towards the exit, out to where Mal and the others had congregated. Then she said, "We're going to tell people."

"We want to help," said the Doctor, approaching River. "But we need to know more about your universe. May I?"

He was young, yet ancient. Full of anger but radiating empathy. Timeless, yet a time traveller. Running. Always running. And there was a drumming, four beats, repeating endlessly. She needed to know about him, this man who heard her across universes, when so many in this 'verse couldn't hear her at all.

River nodded, and the Doctor placed his fingers on River's head, then closed his eyes. River closed her eyes as well...

… And saw images. People. People the Doctor had lost. Worlds. World after world. Monsters, so many monsters, the most fearsome of which had attacked his world. It was Gallifrey, this world. An ancient world with an ancient race. They fought back, and the universe buckled under the weight of this terrible war. A time war. There was only one way to end it, oh my Lord, only one way it _could_ end.

The Doctor released her, and River swayed for a moment. The flood of information had been more than even her brain could process. She could only retain fragments, bits and pieces.

She realized she was crying, and there were tears also in the Doctor's eyes.

"Your own people," River said. "You had to kill your own people. The innocent as well as the guilty."

The Doctor nodded. "It was the only way. And you. Kidnapped, tortured, made into a weapon."

River nodded, then said, "They've had their turn. Now it's ours."

"You'll go to Mr. Universe, won't you?" said the Doctor.

"Yes."

"As will we. We'll do what we can to help."

The Doctor and Clara started towards the box and opened the door. Then the Doctor turned and said, "You won't tell them about us, will you? At least, not just yet."

River smiled. "Tell them that I've just met people from another universe? They'd only think I was crazy."


	4. Chapter 4

"So you're Mr. Universe," said Clara.

A moment ago she'd entered the dark, sparsely furnished room, with its bare metal walls and a round, raised seating area built into the middle, in which sat… a mannequin.

Well, that's different, Clara thought.

With his back to her, Mr. Universe had been oblivious to Clara's presence, his head darting from side to side and up and down as he absorbed the content displayed on the myriad screens before him. Upon her speaking, Mr. Universe fairly flew out of his chair, turned, and stared wide-eyed at Clara. His mouth opened, but only strangled gurgling noises came out.

"Not a bit ostentatious that name, is it?" Clara continued.

"No," he said finally.

"No it isn't?" said Clara.

"No. No, you're not here," he said, clutching his hair. "You can't be here. No one comes here without my knowing."

"Oh, hello there," said the Doctor as he sauntered in. Clapping his hands together, he said, "You know, I've always wanted to meet someone called Mr. Universe, and here we are. What a splendid occasion."

"Isn't it?" agreed Clara.

"It is indeed," said the Doctor with a big smile.

Mr. Universe blinked, then sank back into his chair.

"Apparently we're not here," Clara told the Doctor.

The Doctor spun around on the spot, then patted his chest. "No, I think we're definitely here."

"I'm Clara by the way, and this is the Doctor."

Glancing at her and then the Doctor, Mr. Universe whispered, "I see everything. _Everything_. Every ship emits a signal and I detect every signal."

"Ah, yes, well you've never encountered a ship like mine," said the Doctor. "But never mind that. Listen to what I'm about to say very carefully. You're going to have some visitors before long, the crew of _Serenity_."

With a smile, Mr. Universe said, "Mal and company, they're coming here? I knew Zoe couldn't keep away from me. But Lenore will always be my true love."

And with that, Mr. Universe touched a button on a remote control and the mannequin waved.

Clara made a face and looked at the Doctor.

"Right, well, be that as it may," said the Doctor, "they're going to want to use your facilities to transmit something very important. Now, what would you say if I told you I could double the bandwidth of your transmitters, allowing you to transmit more information farther and faster than you can now."

Mr. Universe smiled. "Then I'd say you're _kwong-juh duh_. Nobody in the 'verse can match what I've got here. I hear everything, I go everywhere."

"Except us," said Clara. "You didn't hear us coming, did you?"

"No," agreed Mr. Universe. "No I didn't but still…"

The Doctor interrupted. "You're familiar with your computer's clock speed?"

"Of course," said Mr. Universe.

The Doctor withdrew his sonic and applied it in the direction of his console. "Right. Why don't you double check it, then?"

Raising an eyebrow, Mr. Universe turned to his displays and typed some commands. Then he pushed his chair back, turned, and gaped at the Doctor.

"Well?" said the Doctor.

"The clock speed. It's 50% higher than before. But that's impossible."

"Ah. Well, impossible is a strong word. Highly improbable. Much better. So, will you let me modify your transmitters? There's a great deal at stake and little time to spare."

Mr. Universe looked closely at the Doctor's face. "You want me to trust you. The problem is, I don't trust anyone. Everyone has secrets. Do you, Doctor?"

The Doctor's smile faded and he regarded Mr. Universe with a slight frown. "A great many secrets. I've lived a very long time, much longer than anyone of your species. Of course I have secrets.

"Anyone of your… species?" After a pause, Mr. Universe continued. "You're not trying to tell me that you're an…"

"Alien! Yes, yes I am. From the planet Gallifrey in another universe."

Mr. Universe raised an eyebrow.

"Two hearts," said the Doctor, pointing to his chest. Then he withdrew a stethoscope from his inside jacket pocket. "Listen for yourself."

After standing and taking the stethoscope, Mr. Universe first listened to his own heart. Satisfied, he then placed the chest piece on the Doctor's chest. After moving it left to right and back again, his eyes widened.

"Two hearts," he said. "You have two hearts."

The Doctor nodded, but said nothing.

"You must tell me," said Mr. Universe.

"Tell you what?" said the Doctor.

"Everything. About your ship, your planet, your people. Your _universe_."

The Doctor smiled. "I will. I promise. _After_ we've completed the modifications to your transmitters."

Mr. Universe sat again. He looked like he was holding his breath and was about to burst. He turned his chair to and fro, looked at the Doctor again, then finally exhaled and let his head droop. "Okay," he said. "I'll let you upgrade my transmitters providing you keep your promise."

"Deal!" said the Doctor.

Picking up a data pad, Mr. Universe handed it to the Doctor along with the stethoscope. "This will point you to the transmitter equipment installations."

"Excellent," the Doctor said. "Clara, I'll need your help with this."

And with that, the Doctor and Clara left, leaving Mr. Universe to ponder the mysteries of his unexpected guests.

A moment later the comm panel lit up. With a smile, he looked to Lenore and said, "Must be Mal."

* * *

"I think," the Doctor told Clara as they headed to the nearest installation, "that once this is done we can return to our universe. With the truth about Miranda spread throughout the system, those who supported this terrible experiment will find themselves suddenly out of favour. Or worse."

"I suppose," said Clara. "But I'd like to see this through, nonetheless. If nothing else, I'd like to see the look on their faces."

"Fair enough," said the Doctor.

The upgrades took longer than Clara expected. The transmitting equipment was distributed throughout the extensive facility, and at each location tuning was required. Some time later, after the modifications were complete, the Doctor returned to the TARDIS while Clara went to inform Mr. Universe.

She stopped as soon as she entered the room. The equipment was all smashed up, and Mr. Universe lay slumped in his chair.

"Oh no," she said and darted forward to help.

Turning the chair, she saw that he was still breathing, but bleeding badly. While she was looking for something to stanch the wound, Mr. Universe opened his eyes a hair's breadth and said, "You're real."

"Yes, of course I'm real. Now just sit there and shut up, I'm going to help. You're going to be fine."

After coughing and wiping blood from his mouth, he whispered, "No I'm not. But listen. They've set a trap for Mal. Called in every Alliance ship in the vicinity. It's going to be a bloodbath. You have to help him."

"We will," Clara said, tears in her eyes. "I promise."

Nodding, Mr. Universe said, "First, I need to you help me. I have to leave a message for Mal, in case he survives. Help me get over to Lenore."

"I'm not sure it's a good idea to move you," Clara said.

"I'm done for anyway. At least let it mean something."

Clara considered this, then nodded and helped Mr. Universe to his feet and supported him as they shuffled the short distance to the mannequin.

"Thank you," said Mr. Universe. "Now go. Go help Mal."

Clara didn't know what to say except, "Good luck."

Mr. Universe nodded, and Clara turned and ran out of the room and down the corridor, towards the large supply room where the TARDIS had landed.

"Lenore," said Mr. Universe. "Initiate recording mode. Playback on motion detection. Confirm."

"Confirmed," said Lenore, unblinking.

"Begin recording. Mal. Guy killed me Mal. He killed me with a sword. How weird is that?"

* * *

"Doctor!" said Clara as she ran into the TARDIS, her face pale and her expression distraught.

The Doctor, who'd been working at the console, turned towards her. "What?" he said darkly. "What's happened?"

"They've been here. The Alliance. Mr. Universe is dead, or as good as."

The Doctor's face grew even darker. "Another death, and with all the untold number of dead we've already encountered. This has to stop."

"He said they've called in ships. They're lying in wait for _Serenity_."

Moving to his console display, the Doctor typed some commands and regarded the fleet of Alliance ships orbiting the planet.

"There," he said to Clara as he pointed to one of the ships. "That will be the command ship. And that's where we're going."

The Doctor gave the dematerialization lever a hard yank, and the TARDIS left Mr. Universe's installation.

"What's the plan then?" asked Clara.

"Same as usual," said the Doctor.

"Ah, right," said Clara. "Make it up as we go." Then she smiled and added, "Fair enough."

The time rotor stopped as the dematerialization sounds faded, and the Doctor looked at their surroundings on the screen. "All quiet," he said. "Let's go."

Exiting the TARDIS, the Doctor and Clara found themselves in small room whose walls were alight with instruments and displays.

"Excellent," said the Doctor. "This will be the hub of the ship's major systems. And this display here," he said as he walked a few steps, "should tell us where there weapon control systems are located."

He poked the blank display to awaken it then tapped at some symbols on the console below. A map appeared, a schematic for the ship, with two areas highlighted.

"Here we are," said the Doctor, pointing to a small square on the display. "And there's where we want to be. To the left, second right, and third door to the left."

Opening the door a crack, the Doctor looked and pronounced that the coast was clear.

Gliding down the hallway, they paused at the first junction to look around the corner. All quiet. However, as they proceeded towards the second junction, they heard footsteps approaching. Without hesitation they returned to the first junction, rounded the corner, and pressed themselves against the wall.

Two people, heavily armed and dressed in dark clothing with helmets and body armour, were discussing something rather passionately, waving their free hands about, and didn't notice the two intruders. When it was clear, the Doctor and Clara emerged and continued to the second junction. Peeking around the corner, the Doctor saw two guards, dressed similarly to the two that had just passed them, standing outside the third door to the left, their destination.

"Right. It's guarded," he told Clara as he withdrew the psychic paper. "We'll just have to tell them we aren't the intruders they're looking for."

Straightening his bow tie, the Doctor rounded the corner and strutted down the hall as if the ship was his personal property.

"This area is restricted," said one of the guards as they both raised their weapons.

"And this is my clearance," the Doctor said, holding the psychic paper for them to see.

The guard that had spoken nodded to the other and they stepped aside, allowing them entry.

Without a word, the Doctor opened the door and he and Clara entered. Much to their surprise, they found someone in there already, a man, and he was tapping at a control panel in front of him. He nodded his head at the results of his work, then, with a neutral expression, regarded the Doctor and Clara. He seemed no more interested in them than if they were shopping mall art mounted on the wall.

The man's age was hard to pin down, neither old nor young. But he was muscular, square-jawed, blue-eyed and, thought Clara, his face was far from unpleasant.

"Might I ask," began the Doctor.

But before he could finish, the man tapped his sleeve and he disappeared.

The Doctor's eyes widened, then he took out his sonic screwdriver and scanned the area where the man had been. "Gotcha," he said.

"Where did he go?" said Clara.

"He was wearing a vortex manipulator. He's a time traveller. And I've locked onto his destination. But let's have a look at what he's been up to."

As the Doctor read the console displays, he shook his head. "He's disabled many of the fleet's weapons, and he's placed safeguards preventing anyone from undoing his sabotage. Most of the fleet's weapons will be useless in any firefight. And from what I've learned about Captain Reynolds, that will give him all the advantage he needs. In short, our time traveling friend has done our work for us."

"I wonder why?" said Clara. "Could he be from the resistance, in the future, come back to weaken the Alliance?"

"I'm not sure," said the Doctor. "Maybe. Or maybe it's something more sinister than that. But I think it would be be best to put the question to him."

* * *

"Welcome to Beaumonde" in large, blinking letters, was the first thing Clara saw as she exited the TARDIS. Beside her, the Doctor laughed.

"What's so funny?"

"This doesn't happen very often," said the Doctor. "We've actually arrived at an entry port."

Clara nodded. It was early evening, but in the bright lights of tall lamps scattered here and there, she saw that they were surrounded by ships of all sizes and shapes. Some had settled onto the ground while others were held aloft by docking clamps. There was a flurry of activity and noises as cargo was unloaded from some ships, loaded onto others, and in front of still others, there was some very serious haggling going on.

A man wearing a blue uniform and hat approached them.

"Right," said the man. "You've made an unscheduled landing. Having trouble with your… box?" he said as he finally looked up from his clipboard to the blue police box in front of him.

"Yes, that's right," said the Doctor. "Emergency landing. We need to get some replacement parts then we'll be on our way."

The man nodded and took a pen from this pocket. "Name of your… transportation?"

"Ah. That would be TARDIS. T-A-R-D-I-S. Best ship in the universe. Um, 'verse."

"And your name?" said the man without looking up from the clipboard as he filled in the form. Captain…?"

"Doctor, actually."

"Full name."

"Doctor John Smith," said the Doctor.

"Uh hum," acknowledged the man. He continued scribbling, then put away his pen and spoke a few words into a comm device on his shoulder. A dull metal clamping system descended, pressing a curved arm against each face of the TARDIS.

Tearing off the top page of the paperwork and handing it to the Doctor, the man said, "This is gate 14. Your vessel will be impounded here until payment is received. Since your arrival was unscheduled, payment will be twice the standard docking fee. Payment by credit transfer only. Do you have any questions?"

"None whatsoever," said the Doctor. "Thank you for your assistance."

The man nodded absently, then sauntered towards the next dock.

"Well," said Clara, "thank goodness we don't have to go through this every time we land."

"Indeed," said the Doctor. "Now then, we're a bit early, but it's a good idea to get the lay of the land before our friend shows up."

"Makes sense," said Clara. "Shall we look around for a bit?"

"Yes," said the Doctor. "Lets."

As they entered the exit corridor, an attendant asked for their paperwork. The woman looked at it up and down, hummed and hawed, gave Clara and the Doctor an unpleasant look, then finally stamped the paperwork and sent them on their way.

"So we're in the future now, yeah?" said Clara.

The Doctor nodded. "But just a matter of months." said the Doctor.

Clara considered this. "So, not enough time for them to have invented time travel."

"Anything's possible of course," said the Doctor, "but not really, no. I should think our friend comes from further in the future than this.

After clearing the narrow walkway from the port, Clara and the Doctor stopped to look about them.

"This is like something out of _Blade Runner_ ," said Clara.

The Doctor nodded. "Classic film. Man creates androids. Man is afraid of androids. Man kills androids. How sadly typical."

The streets ahead of them were crowded, packed with buildings large and small, with throngs of people coming and going. Some buildings were constructed in the style of Chinese pagodas, others were straightforward skyscrapers, and still others were a hybrid. Overhead power lines mixed with Chinese lanterns were strung over some of the streets. Signs were garish, brightly lit, and mostly in Mandarin.

"It smells, well, interesting," said Clara as she processed the odour of animals, fish, and unwashed bodies, all intermingled with the smells of spices that she couldn't place.

"Let's try this way," said the Doctor, and they moved slowly along one of the streets, shouldering their way through the crowd.

"Oh look," said Clara. "A book shop. I must check this out."

"Fine," said the Doctor, "I'll walk ahead. Don't get into trouble."

"You're a fine one to talk," said Clara with a wink, and she disappeared into the shop.

The Doctor hadn't gone a few steps, however, before trouble found him.

There was a moment of high-pitched feedback, then a voice on a PA system announced: "Would the doctor who arrived at gate 14 please return to security."

"What?" said the Doctor. "That shouldn't have happened."

The perception filter cast by the TARDIS should have prevented this. The workers at the docks should have forgotten that it was even there.

Should he tell Clara? The Doctor decided against it. He could likely go back, see what the issue was, and return before she noticed he was gone. He _could_ ignore the call, but it wouldn't do to have security people searching for him. He wanted to get the lay of the land quietly.

With a frown on his face, the Doctor started to march back the way he'd come. And then he stopped.

This man. This was Captain Reynolds, brown coat and all. This he knew from his contact with River. And his companion was Zoe. But… there was something odd about him.

Jutting his face inches from the man's, he repeated, "It shouldn't have happened!"

"Right," said the man, backing up slightly. "It shouldn't have happened."

With a "humph", the Doctor continued on his way, then pulled out his sonic, turned, and scanned the man while his back was turned. Eyes widening with surprise, the Doctor saw that this man, whether Captain Reynolds or no, had recently travelled through time. How many time travellers was he dealing with? And what were they up to? Just as well that he'd placed a tracker on him while he was up close.

* * *

In the book shop, Clara was surprised at how many volumes were on display. She'd assumed that, in the future, books would be largely electronic. Not here.

The storefront was narrow, but the shop extended back a considerable distance. It was hard to tell just how far back because, well, the place was a mess. Bigger on the inside, Clara thought with a smile. Books were arranged haphazardly, without much in the way of any obvious attempts to organize them. And aside from those books that were shelved, piles of books had been set on the floor here and there, some nearly as tall as Clara herself. Her first impression was that she'd entered a labyrinth. A labyrinth of books. It was dark, musty-smelling, and it was perfect.

Picking up and opening a selection of the books, she saw that some were entirely in English, some in Mandarin, and some in a combination of both. Thanks to the TARDIS, she was able to read them all.

She hadn't made it very far when she started and said, "I don't believe it!" Then she clasped a hand to her mouth, not having intended to speak so loudly.

"Can't believe what?" asked a man who'd appeared beside her.

Clara turned. It was Mr. Brown Coat, or Captain Reynolds as the Doctor referred to him. Now what was _he_ doing here? Coincidence? I think not.

"They have a copy of _A Tale of Two Cities_ ," said Clara. "After all this time, people are still reading Dickens."

The man's eyes widened. "Sweet!" he said, picking up the book and leafing through it.

"You know," he added with a wink, "I hear that people are still reading Richard Castle."

"Sorry," said Clara. "Who?"

The man coloured slightly. "Never mind," he said hefting the Dickens book. "This will be perfect."

"Perfect for what?" asked Clara.

The man swallowed, then stared over Clara's shoulder and said, "What's that?"

Clara turned but could see nothing but more books. "What's what?" she said. But as she turned back, she saw that the man was gone and the door to the shop was closing. Looking back at the shelf in front of her, she noted that the book was gone too.

"That cheeky rascal," said Clara. "He's just nicked that book."

Sometime later, Clara's mobile rang. Another patron standing a few feet to her right glared. With a shrug and a smile, Clara answered. "Hello. Doctor?" she whispered.

"Clara. I'm back in the TARDIS. Still in the book shop?"

"Yes. What are you doing back there?" said Clara.

"I'll tell you when you get back. No rush."

Clara was intrigued and left the shop. When she entered the docks, a group of workers whistled at her.

"Going to join your doctor friend? Have a bit of fun in the box?" said one, setting the group off to snickering.

"Come see us when you're done, will you?" said another. This was followed by loud guffaws.

Clara glared at them, raising an eyebrow, and continued on her way. Stepping into the TARDIS, she said, "So?"

The Doctor sighed. "Remind me never to land at an entry port. The perception filter doesn't seem as effective. At any rate, I was summoned back here, and it turns out the only reason was so the dock workers could make fun of my TARDIS. And us."

Patting the console, the Doctor said, "There there old girl. You're better than they could possibly know."

"Yes, I ran into some of them on the way here. They seem to be having fun contemplating what we're doing in here."

"Ah. I see," said the Doctor, colouring slightly. "Well, there's no accounting for some people. Now, on to more important matters. I encountered our friend, Captain Reynolds. At least, I think it was him."

"I saw him too," said Clara. "He came into the book shop while I was there. Nicked a book in the process."

"Did he now," said the Doctor. "The thing is, he's a time traveller as well."

"What?" said Clara. "Him too? How? And what could he be up to?"

"I've no idea," said the Doctor. "But I planted a tracker on him. It's only a few hours before our other time travelling friend appears, so I thought we could just keep an eye on Captain Reynolds until then."

With his eye on the view screen, the Doctor said, "He appears to be heading to the outskirts of the city. I can keep watch if you'd like to get some rest."

"Okay," said Clara. "I'll be in the library. I've a mind to pick up a copy of _A Tale of Two Cities_."

"Ah yes. Dickens. Splendid chap. Handy in a tight spot."

"You've met him," said Clara. "Charles Dickens. Of course you have."

* * *

After a time spent in the city's outskirts, Reynolds returned to the city and into the docks not far from the TARDIS. " _Serenity_ must be parked here, of course," said the Doctor.

Hours passed. The next day arrived with _Serenity_ still in the docks. "What are you up to?" said the Doctor.

Still more hours later, the Doctor saw that Reynolds was on the move again. Apparently on foot. And…

Clara had returned to the control room just an hour before. Turning to her, the Doctor grinned and said. "I think we can kill two birds with one stone. Captain Reynolds appears to be heading for precisely the time and place at which the saboteur will appear."

The Doctor pulled the dematerialization switch, and the TARDIS took its leave of Beaumonde's dockyard. Outside, the workers who had harassed the Doctor and Clara heard a strange sound then looked, slack-jawed, just in time to see the TARDIS disappear.

"He didn't even pay the fee," said one.

Inside the TARDIS, the Doctor darted around the console, turning dials and pressing buttons "Now, this will be tricky," he said. "I want to be a fly on the wall when they meet. That means putting the engines on silent and putting the outer shell on invisible. And that takes a _lot_ of energy."

"The TARDIS can be invisible?" said Clara.

"I don't do it very often, but we're going to do it today."

And then, silently, the central column came to rest. Activating the view screen, the Doctor and Clara saw that they were inside a normal looking home. Seated on a sofa, looking towards the front door, sat their saboteur.

"This should be interesting," said the Doctor. "I only wish I had popcorn."

"This is a TARDIS," said Clara. "You can have popcorn any time you like."

The Doctor shook his head sadly. "The TARDIS doesn't do popcorn. Why do you think I visit Earth so frequently?"

Clara gave him a gentle elbow as they both watched the screen.

In a couple of minutes, Captain Reynolds came in, followed by… Captain Reynolds.

"There's two of them?" said Clara.

The Doctor scratched his head. "Apparently. I'll assume that the one with the coat is Reynolds. But who's his twin?"

With the flick of a switch, they were able to listen to the conversation.

"Captain Reynolds," said the saboteur. "Thank you for joining me. And I see you've brought your brother. Excellent."

"This may be difficult for the Alliance to understand," said Reynolds, "but most folk don't appreciate being played like puppets."

The man smiled. "I see you've inferred I'm with the Alliance. But there's something perhaps you don't know."

"Actually, I do," Reynolds interrupted. "You're an operative from the future, a few years shy of fifty."

The operative's face showed some surprise before his features resumed their expression of relaxed condescension.

Clara noticed the Doctor typing some commands into the console. He smiled and pointed at the screen. Now, the operative and Reynold's brother were surrounded by a faint halo of golden dust. Clara shot him a querying look, but he just put his lips to his fingers. With a sigh, she turned her attention back to the screen.

"I see," said the operative. "Then you've met me before, at some time in my future."

"And I'm hopin' this is the last time," said Reynolds. "Find someone else to do your dirty work next time."

"That, I'm afraid, I cannot promise. Both of your skillsets are quite unique, and very valuable, as I'm sure you were told on our first meeting. In my time, we face a great challenge, one so great that humanity cannot afford to be divided. To that end, we've seeded the timeline with promising clones, including you and your brother, to avoid certain events, and promote the likelihood of others."

"Just a minute," said Reynolds brother. "Mal told me that story when we first met. But since then I've found my biological father. I can't be Mal's clone."

The operative smiled. "And yet, you have identical DNA, do you not?"

Reynolds looked at his brother, who nodded. "Simon confirmed it."

"Interesting," said the operative.

"So how do Beckett and I get home?" the brother asked. "Click our heels three times and say, 'There's no place like home'?"

"I'm unfamiliar with that reference," the operative said, pressing his fingers against his sleeve, "but I believe that the end of many things is often found at the beginning."

The operative vanished.

" _Qing wa kao de liu mang_!" said Reynolds.

"Wait a minute," said the brother. "I think I know what he meant."

And with that, the two men left.

Turning to the Doctor, Clara said, "So Reynold's brother is a time traveller."

"It seems so," said the Doctor. "But not necessarily of his own volition. And now we have confirmation that the Alliance is meddling with the timeline. Reynolds and his brother are clones that they've placed in their respective time streams, but to what end? And what else have they been up to? We still need answers. Why don't we follow this operative and put the question to him, once and for all?"

Once again, the Doctor manipulated the console controls and the TARDIS entered the time vortex, on route to the operative's destination.

* * *

When the Doctor and Clara emerged from the TARDIS, they found themselves in a large office. One wall was made up entirely of a single window pane that looked out over the city below. There was little furniture, just a table, a couple of chairs, and a wall with large displays showing videos of people and places. Everything was white, the floor, ceiling, and walls. And standing a few feet away from them, with a look of mild curiosity on his face, was the operative.

"I've seen you before," he said. "Yes. You were on the flagship that was waiting for Captain Reynolds. Interesting."

"Just what do you think you're playing at?" the Doctor said, approaching the operative and standing very close to him. "Meddling with the timeline. Do you have any idea of the damage you could cause?"

The operative didn't answer immediately. His face gave away nothing as he processed what the Doctor said.

"You seem to know something of me," said the operative. "Tell me about yourselves."

"I'm the Doctor. This is Clara. I'm a Time Lord, a race that was ancient while yours was still swinging about in trees. We were summoned when we heard a psychic cry. A cry strong enough to cross universes. Do you know what it said?"

Another pause, then the operative said, "Was it by any chance, 'Miranda'?"

The Doctor backed up slightly, and the operative nodded. "Yes. The River Tam girl. This is unexpected, even for her."

The Doctor looked at him closely. "You were behind it weren't you? Miranda."

The operative backed up towards the desk. But before he could reach it, the Doctor said, "Don't bother calling for help. My TARDIS has surrounded Clara and me with force fields. You can't touch us."

Stepping forward again, the operative pressed one finger in the Doctor's direction, only to find it blocked before he could make contact.

"You might as well tell us," said the Doctor. "If you don't, we have other ways of finding out, and things will be even worse for you."

"I believe you," the operative said, finally. "Well this _is_ interesting. Extremely so." Looking in turn at the Doctor, Clara, and then the TARDIS, he finally said, "Yes. I set Miranda into motion."

"I thought so," said the Doctor. "The governor believed that I was an operative of the Parliament, yet refused a direct order to cease the experiment. She said she answered to an even higher authority. 'For the sake of the Alliance and its _future_ ,' she said. It _must_ have been you."

"We face significant challenges in this time," said the operative, walking to the window. As he gazed out over the city, he continued. "Challenges that require humanity to be united. Miranda was an attempt to achieve that, and the G-23 Paxilon Hydrochlorate showed great promise. The ultimate outcome was… unfortunate."

"Unfortunate?" said Clara. "Is that what you call it?" "Thirty million dead. Monsters who wage war on and cannibalize other human beings. And all of that is _unfortunate_?"

The operative turned to face Clara and shrugged slightly. "It's done. It cannot be undone."

The Doctor's face was darkening. "There are no alien monsters in this universe, no Daleks, no Cybermen, but there's no need for them. You and your allies are more than monster enough."

Stepping towards the operative again, the Doctor said, "What is this crisis that justifies all the deaths, the meddling with the timeline, all the risks you've taken, risks you can't possibly understand?"

The operative didn't budge and maintained his air of measured aloofness. "Earth-That-Was became uninhabitable. Ships were sent to colonize another system where our existence could continue."

"We know all this," said Clara.

"What you may not be aware of," the operative continued smoothly, "is that more than one system was colonized. So as not to lay all of humanity's eggs in one basket, so to speak. The other system has, unfortunately, collapsed. It wasn't sufficiently amenable to available terraforming technology. As a result, they wish to come and settle in this system. Naturally, we've refused."

"You've _what_?" said the Doctor.

"The Alliance has control of the core worlds and at best a tenuous hold on the outer rim. If these intruders were to upset the delicate balance that exists, chaos would ensue."

"I think what you mean," said Clara, "is that you'd have to share power with them. And that's not to your liking. Not one bit."

Again, the operative gave a slight shrug. "Label our motives how you please. The fact is that they constitute a grave threat, and the only way to meet that threat is with a unified system."

The Doctor was speechless for a moment. He blinked and then he said, "So. To summarize. Thirty million dead. Likely many more besides. An altered timeline and possible damage to the space-time continuum. And all this so that you can retain _power_?"

The operative's face remained impassive.

"Right. Well all of that is over. Time travel takes a tremendous amount of energy. So the first thing we're going to do is destroy your power generators. By the time you're able to bring them back online it will be too late."

The Doctor beckoned Clara and they entered the TARDIS.

"What do you mean, 'too late'?" the operative called after them. But by then the TARDIS was dematerializing and the operative was left alone.

* * *

As _Serenity_ glided through the black on route to Persephone, Jayne was sorting crates in the cargo bay, getting their latest cargo ready for delivery. This job would pay plenty. Assumin' Badger kept to his word. Likely he wouldn't. At least, not without some persuadin'. Jayne smiled. Persuadin' folk was one of the things 'bout this job he liked best.

As he ran through the checklist on his clipboard, Jayne became aware of a sound, one he hadn't heard before. He looked about for its source, then saw, or thought he saw, a blue shape solidifying in the middle of the bay.

Jayne blinked. Then he blinked again. And then he called out, "Mal! Maalll! Git down here. We got company!" He dashed to the side of the bay and picked up his rifle. Jayne never went far without weapons, not even on board _Serenity_.

With his rifle pointed at the blue box, Jayne muttered, "What kind of gorram ruttin' trick is this?"

His arm trembled slightly and he cursed. He was almost never afraid, but truth be told, the hairs on the back of his neck were standin' up as sure as omelets is eggs. Then he nearly jumped when he felt a hand on his arm.

It was River.

"What you playin' at, girl? Want to get shot by mistake?"

With a gentle smile River said, "You don't need this. They're friends."

"My ass they're friends," said Jayne. "No one can do this, 'xcept maybe the Alliance. Nobody just appears out of thin air."

River stepped in front of Jayne and gently pushed the rifle downwards. "They're friends," she repeated.

By this time, the rest of the crew had joined them and were sharing anxious glances. Mal had practically flown down the ladder, his pistol drawn. Zoe likewise. They holstered their pistols, however, as River moved between them and the TARDIS doors.

"River!" said Simon as he lurched towards her. Zoe held him back. "What are you doing?"

"I know them," said River. "We've met before. The madman in a box."

"Well that's just great," said Jayne.

The Doctor and Clara emerged. "Ah. River!" said the Doctor with a big smile. "Good to see you again." Looking at the rest of the crew, he added, "Hello everyone. I'm the Doctor and this is Clara."

"Want to tell me what you're doin' on my boat, and how you got here?" said Mal.

"They come out of nowhere," said Jayne. "Right out of thin air. Saw it with my own eyes."

"This is my ship, the TARDIS," said the Doctor. "She can travel anywhere in time and space."

Looking at Mal, the Doctor nodded. "I know that you're familiar with time travel, Captain. Your brother recently traveled through time to join you."

"How do you know that?" asked Mal.

"We were there," said Clara. "We were on Lilac when the Reavers attacked. We were on Miranda. We tried to stop it, but couldn't. We met River after you viewed the message left by Chief Scientist Cumeau. We met Mr. Universe and upgraded his transmitters so you could better get your message out. We were there, though you couldn't see us, when you and your brother met the operative from the future."

"River?" said Mal, casting her a puzzled look.

She nodded. "They're telling the truth," said River.

"You're from the future yourselves, I reckon," said Mal, running his hand through his hair. "Would explain how it is you can travel in time. In… that"

The Doctor and Clara exchanged a glance. "No," said the Doctor. "No we're not. We're not even from this universe. We received a message." At this, the Doctor looked to River. "A message we couldn't ignore."

"A message," Simon repeated, also looking at River.

River nodded. "It was me. The moment we learned about the Reavers on Miranda. A message in a bottle, from deep inside myself. It washed up in their universe."

"This is a lot to take in," said the Doctor. "But now _we_ have a message for _you_. A very important message."

"Go ahead. Speak your piece," said Mal.

"Right," said the Doctor. "First off, you don't have to worry about the future operative. You won't encounter him again. At least, not for another fifty years."

Mal stared at the Doctor, then a lopsided smile appeared on his face. Approaching the Doctor, he said, "Doctor, I do believe I want to shake your hand."

The Doctor and Mal shook hands vigorously. Then, as Mal backed away, the Doctor continued.

"This next bit is the big one. When humanity left Earth-That-Was, they came here, to this system. But there's more to the story than that."

"What do you mean?" asked Simon.

"What I mean is, another branch of humanity settled in a completely different system. In other words, you have cousins you didn't know about."

"That's not possible," said Zoe.

"I assure you it is," said the Doctor. "And I know this for a fact because we've met them."

"You've… met them?" said Mal.

"They've had to abandon their system. The terraforming didn't take. The worlds were too hostile. Fifty years in your future, they approached the Alliance to discuss merging their colonists with yours."

"Let me guess," said Zoe. "The Alliance refused."

"Correct!" said the Doctor. "This is why the future Alliance is so pointedly concerned about uniting your system, the better to fend them off. Clara and I paid a visit to representatives of the other system. We took the liberty of negotiating a deal with them."

"What kind of deal?" said Jayne.

"In fifty years, they'll come and settle on the outer rim planets in this system, bypassing the Alliance altogether," said the Doctor. "They'll bring with them technologies that are at least the equivalent of those available to the Alliance. They will enter into a peaceful partnership with existing colonies, and together you will change the balance of power. The Alliance will no longer be able to hold sway over you. You will be able to continue as you are, without interference. If you choose, and only if you choose, you can take advantage of the technologies the new colonists will offer. This in exchange for providing them with a new home. And, from what I've seen, there's plenty of room to go around."

This was met by stunned silence.

"Your job, Captain Reynolds," continued the Doctor with a smile, "is to give notice to the colonies and help them prepare. Do you think you can do that?"

Mal cast a glance at Zoe. Zoe nodded and said, "If what you say is true, how do we know they'll keep their word? That they're not just as bad as the Alliance."

"We spent some time with them," Clara said. "They were very transparent. They're nothing like the Alliance. And even if they were, they know the Doctor now, and know what he's capable of. And trust me, you don't want to make a Time Lord angry."

"A… Time Lord?" said Jayne. "Sounds like a pretty fancy name for a skinny-ass busybody what travels in a box wearin' a bow tie."

Clara chortled and the Doctor cast her a glance that reminded her of a hurt puppy dog. She smothered the rest of her laughter.

"Jayne…" Mal flashed Jayne a warning look. Jayne grimaced but said nothing further.

"Yes, well, the Time Lords are my people. They were my people. Long story," said the Doctor. "Still, if anything does go wrong River knows how to contact me. Isn't that right, River?"

River nodded. "We're part of each other now."

"And besides," said the Doctor, "I may just return in any case to check on things."

"I'm near speechless," said Mal.

"Thank goodness for small favours," said Inara.

Mal winked at her and turned back to the Doctor. "We'll tell people, and when the time comes, they'll be ready. You have my word."

"Excellent!" said the Doctor. "In that case, Clara Oswald, it's high time you and I headed home."

"Just one thing!" piped in Kaylee. "Just one thing before you go. Your ship. TARDIS? Can I have a gander at her engines?"

"Oh, now you've done it," said Clara. "If there's one thing the Doctor loves, it's to show off his TARDIS."

With a twinkle in his eye, the Doctor said, "you must be Kaylee. It would be my pleasure." He opened the doors and beckoned her in.

"You sure about this, Kaylee?" said Mal. Seems it'll be a might cramped in there."

"You'd be surprised," said Clara.

"Reckon I would at that," said Mal.

Just before the doors closed again, the rest of the crew heard Kaylee say, " _Wuh duh ma huh tah duh fong kwong duh wai shung_."

Clara smiled when she heard this, _Holy mother of God and all her wacky nephews_ , and wondered if the Doctor had heard this one before.

"Fair's fair, Captain Reynolds," said Clara. "How about you show me around your ship."

Mal beamed. "Deal. Welcome to _Serenity_ , best in the 'verse. Um, well, just for now, maybe second best. By the way, my friends call me Mal."

* * *

The crew of _Serenity_ , having taken their leave of the Doctor and Clara, watched as the TARDIS dematerialized from the cargo bay.

Clearing his throat, Mal said, "Truly, this is a new beginning, one that nobody saw coming. Now it's on course, headed our way, and we need to get ready. We need to get everyone ready."

"Hate to break it to you, Mal," said Jayne, "but likely none of us'll be alive in fifty years. Well, 'xcept maybe River here. If there's some kind of new golden age comin', seems we'll never see it."

Mal and Zoe exchanged a glance, then he looked to Inara, whose large, liquid eyes spoke volumes.

"Perhaps," said Mal, holding Inara's gaze. "But the children out there and the children soon to come will see it, and that's good enough for me."

The End


End file.
